


Contingency

by superchick67



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Not A Fix-It, i'm not really a "titles" person as you can tell, just something I needed to get out of my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9103189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superchick67/pseuds/superchick67
Summary: They say right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Cassian finds that what he sees is not the life he has lived out already, the life that is coming to a close; no, the memories that he envisions swirling in his mind are those that have not happened. The could-have-beens, the never-would-have-happened-but-still-nice-to-think-abouts, the so-far-out-of-left-field-that-he-is-sure-only-the-furthest-corners-of-his-subconscious-dreamed-them-up-ideas.





	

They say right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Cassian finds that what he sees is not the life he has lived out already, the life that is coming to a close; no, the memories that he envisions swirling in his mind are those that have not happened. The could-have-beens, the never-would-have-happened-but-still-nice-to-think-abouts, the so-far-out-of-left-field-that-he-is-sure-only-the-furthest-corners-of-his-subconscious-dreamed-them-up-ideas.

The hopeful futures he never had the chance to play out.

A million possibilities flash by in a millionth of a second:

He sees the explosion in the not-so-distant distance.

He sees his parents holding hands, reaching out to pull him into a hug.

He sees flashing city lights that always lead to dark alleyways, bodies lying crumpled at his feet.

He hears ringing, constant ringing in his ears, and Jyn’s breath scraping in her throat.

He hears the deafening cheers of a nameless city when the Empire falls.

He hears guttural cries, the sounds of his comrades dying all around him.

He feels sand beneath his knees, digging, grating, shifting beneath his torn skin.

He feels clean cotton sheets tangled around his waist, Jyn’s legs intertwined with his own.

He feels the raw, searing agony of everything he’s worked for, everything he’s  _ done, _ for  _ nothing, _ when the last Rebel ship is shot down.

He smells salt from the beach, blown back towards them from the blast.

He smells a newborn child, soft and pliant in his arms.

He smells burnt flesh, some of it his and some of it not.

He tastes nothing, or maybe he just doesn’t notice it, but in either case the wind has blown his mouth dry and he wouldn’t be able to say a single word if his life depended on it.

He tastes the salt of Jyn’s sweat, glistening on the back of her neck after a training session in the Alliance facilities.

He tastes the bitter tang of blood in his mouth, a familiar taste, but this time there’s so much of it, so much, and his throat is filling up with the liquid, and Jyn is nowhere to be found.

He sees, rather than feels, the white heat enveloping him and Jyn, and he clutches her back harder, even though she’s the one who’s actually facing the source of the explosion..

And then, finally, Cassian Andor sees, hears, feels, smells, tastes,  _ is _

nothing


End file.
